In the spring of 1966, Regulus turned five.
Turning five in the Black Family meant the start of formal education.
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at three in the afternoon, Walburgawould conduct Family Glory lessons in the small study.
A massive House of Black family tree tapestry hung on the wall, stretching from the ceiling to the floor, with gold and silver threads weaving a thousand-year-old network of alliances on the dark fabric.
Monday: Genealogy.
"Look here," Walburga said, pointing a slender ebony pointer at the top of the tapestry. "Linfred Black, a twelfth-century Healer, the acknowledged progenitor of our family..."
Regulus sat on a hardwood chair, hands on his knees, his gaze following the pointer.
"Regulus, repeat what I just said." Walburga's voice pulled him back.
"From 1578 to 1623, the House of Black intermarried with the Rosier family four times, with the Foley family three times, interspersed with marriages to the Crouch and Travers families, forming a stable structure," Regulus answered fluently.
Walburga nodded with satisfaction and turned to Sirius: "And you?"
Sirius squirmed in his chair. "Who can remember all that? They're just names of dead people!"
"They are your ancestors!"
"Dead is dead," Sirius muttered.
Walburga's face darkened, and she was about to lose her temper when Regulus spoke up just in time to interrupt: "Mother, I have a question."
"Speak."
"Why is it that after the fourteenth century, we only intermarry with the Sacred Twenty-Eight families?" Regulus pointed to an earlier section of the tapestry. "It shows here that between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries, the Black Family also intermarried with the Prewett, Macmillan, and even Bones families, but it stopped after that."
Walburga's expression stiffened for a moment. "Because those families fell into degeneracy."
"How did they fall?"
"They began to accept Muggle-borns, even intermarrying with Muggles," Walburga's voice turned stern. "The bloodline was contaminated. The Black Family must remain pure; it is our duty."
"But the Prewett family is still on the list of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," Regulus pointed out.
"That was a compromise! The Ministry of Magic's foolish list!" Walburga's pointer tapped the tapestry, making several portraits shrink back in fear. "True Pure-blood families are becoming fewer and fewer; we are the last lighthouse in a defiled world."
Extremely narrow-minded, but understandable. In a world of hereditary magical ability, bloodlines did have meaning, but attributing everything to blood was far too simplistic.
Regulus glanced at Sirius, knowing he was destined never to accept this theory. That was probably for the best.
A thought suddenly occurred to him: perhaps it would be better for Siriusto leave the Black Family.
This idea startled Regulus himself, but upon careful consideration, the logic held up perfectly.
The Black Family would eventually side with Lord Voldemort, except for Sirius and Andromeda.
If Sirius was destined to rebel, then leaving early and joining the opposing camp as soon as possible might help him survive the future war better.
As for himself, the identity of Regulus Black was destined to be dragged into the darkness.
He needed the resources of the Black Family, the pure-blood status, and proximity to the core of the Death Eaters to acquire knowledge.
He and Sirius were walking two paths that would eventually lead to conflict.
Wednesday: Blood Supremacy.
"Muggles are deficient creatures," Walburga paced the study, a habit of hers when she grew impassioned. "They have no magic. Just as a bird has no wings or a fish has no gills, they are failures of evolution."
Sirius raised his hand. This was something Regulus had taught him: raise your hand when mother is lecturing to avoid direct confrontation.
"Speak."
"But Muggles can build airplanes," Sirius said. "Airplanes can fly. They can fly even without wings."
Walburga sneered. "A clumsy imitation. Using metal and fuel, noisy as anything, polluting the air. A Wizard's broomstick is elegant, quiet, and environmentally friendly."
"But airplanes can fly higher, faster, and carry more people," Regulusadded calmly.
The room fell silent. Walburga stared at her second son. "Are you defending Muggles?"
"I am stating facts," Regulus said. "Mother, if we are truly superior to Muggles, we should surpass them in every aspect.
If we can only comfort ourselves with the idea that magic is more elegant, while they surpass us in speed, load capacity, and altitude, then who is truly superior?"
Sirius gasped, waiting for their mother to explode.
But Walburga didn't explode. She stood there stunned, her lips moving, but no words came out.
Regulus continued, "Perhaps the issue isn't about who is superior, but what we choose to develop. Muggles develop technology; we develop magic.
But if we remain complacent and only cling to our traditions while Muggletechnology continues to advance, one day the gap will become too large to ignore."
"The Ministry of Magic has the Statute of Secrecy..." Walburga's tone weakened slightly.
"The Statute of Secrecy is built on the premise that Muggles won't find us," Regulus said. "But what if one day Muggle technology can detect magic?
What if they invent instruments that can see through a Disillusionment Charm? What if we are still arguing over blood purity while they have already found a way to break the Muggle-Repelling Charm?"
Walburga was silent for a long time before finally saying, "That's enough for today."
She left in a hurry.
Sirius leaned in and whispered, "You scared her."
"Perhaps," Regulus said, jumping off the hardwood chair. "But someone has to tell the truth."
"Why are you speaking up for Muggles?" Sirius asked curiously.
"I'm not speaking up for Muggles," Regulus looked at him. "I just hate lies. If we are truly powerful, we don't need to belittle others to prove it."
Sirius nodded, only half-understanding... At dinner, Walburga spoke of the latest news she had heard: "The Nott family's daughter actually wants to marry a mudblood! Mr. Nott was so furious he locked her in a tower. They say she'll be sent to a French convent for the rest of her life."
Sirius was cutting his steak, but his cutlery stopped when he heard this.
"Why?" he asked. "She likes him, doesn't she?"
"Likes?" Walburga looked as if she had heard the most absurd word. "Can 'liking' put food on the table? Can 'liking' maintain the purity of a bloodline? She's been deluded!"
"But if two people like each other—"
"Shut up!" Walburga's voice turned shrill. "Sirius, how many times have I warned you? Don't pollute your mind with that filthy Muggle thinking! A member of the House of Black must have responsibility! Have integrity!"
"Responsibility is imprisoning your own daughter?" Sirius stood up excitedly, his chair screeching against the floor. "Responsibility is tearing apart two people who love each other?"
"She doesn't love him! She's just been—"
"How do you know?" Sirius yelled back. "You're not her! You don't even know the man!"
Orion put down his cutlery. "Sirius, sit down."
"I won't!" Sirius's eyes were red. "It's not fair! Why can't we choose the people we like? Why do we have to marry someone from the Sacred Twenty-Eight? I don't even know the people on that list! Maybe I don't like them at all!"
Walburga also stood up, her wand already sliding into her hand. "Say that again?!"
Regulus watched the scene, feeling utterly speechless. Sirius's rebelliousness was on full display, even though he didn't even understand what love was, he was simply opposed to this.
And their mother was simply exerting constant pressure, forcing Sirius to accept her pure-blood ideology.
"Mother," Regulus's voice was calm. "Sirius means that feelings are one of the important factors in choosing a partner.
But from the perspective of family continuity, bloodline stability is indeed a priority. Perhaps the two can be balanced—for instance, choosing someone you like within the scope of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
Walburga paused, her anger subsiding slightly. "Of course... if there's affection within the appropriate range, that's even better."
Sirius, however, stared at his brother, his gaze hurt. "Are you speaking for them too? Do you also think bloodlines are more important than liking someone?"
"I'm talking about reality," Regulus met his gaze. "The reality is that the Black Family will not accept Muggle-borns. Rebels will be disowned. You must choose to accept the rules, or leave."
Sirius understood. He looked at his brother, then at his parents, and suddenly smiled.
He turned and left the dining room. There was no door-slamming or shouting; he simply walked away quietly.
Orion said nothing, but he looked at Regulus with a complex expression.
Dinner continued in silence.